One second, Nathan was upright. The next, the air cracked behind Merlin's elbow as he slid inside Nathan's guard and tapped the side of his knee—hard enough to buckle it.
Nathan dropped again, faster this time.
"Okay, now you're just being mean," he muttered, half-laughing, half-winded.
"Tell that to your balance."
Nathan rolled onto his back. "You've definitely been training with someone while you were unconscious."
'You have no idea.'
Merlin offered his hand again. Nathan took it.
"You're pulling your punches," Nathan said as he stood. "I can feel it. You haven't even shown me your real speed."
Merlin shrugged. "Maybe next time."
Nathan raised a brow. "Why not now?"
Because if he did, he wasn't sure the ground wouldn't crack.
Because if he let go of the restraint the system was pressing down with its passive aura suppression, Nathan might not walk away with just bruises.
And because deep down, Merlin was still adjusting.
